A mask, Wuthering Heights

A mask is like a still from a film, like a frame from a comic strip. A moment. A guessable quantity, implied, transparent. As with the masks of tragedy and comedy. An umbrella just as the sun is breaking out – suppose that a mask. Wuthering Heights‘ story seems to come from nothing real. And it seems too commonplace, also, but this insipidity of manner ends in a strangeness.